She flicks her afro hair to the back and it looks amazing on her.
Sam is a show stopper. I guess that’s the reason why the camera loves her and her bubbly personality. She is also the spitting image of her mother, down to her stubborn streak.
“Well if you can’t, then you have to tell her something that will appease her. You know your mama loves you right? She only wants the best for you.” I say as I look out the window, trying to hide the sudden assault of the harsh remembrance that my own mother is gone.
“Yes, I know but it’s too much sometimes. She is much better when you are around though.” She informs as the car winds up around the impressive driveway.
The Martin’s estate is just that, a large, beautiful, fancy estate. With the house standing on prime acres of land, in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods of upstate New York.
All the lights are on and the fountain in the middle of the circular driveway is lit up and sprouting water into the ceramic basin below. The whole place is just splendor on steroids.
The house, or rather, the mansion, is big and has a majestic feel to it. It screams wealth and prestige, and never seizes to intimidate me. I mean, I don’t come from all of this, it’s not so familiar to me.
I was a trailer park girl. Bounced from foster home to foster home because nobody wanted to adopt an ‘emotionally unavailable’ and scary looking mixed-race kid. No one wanted me.
“There is Mama. Standing there looking like the queen of England.” Sam chuckles under her breath as the driver opens the car door on her side. But no matter how much Sam complains about her mother smothering her, she loves her mother. She reveres her too.
It’s a beautiful sight to see as they embrace each other. They meet half way up the stately steps that lead to the impressive front door. I don’t know what it is about today, I’m so emotional but I won’t cry.
Not now.
“Chloe! My dear look at you!” Margaret exclaims in her soft voice. Yep, the two are related alright. “Come here let me look at you.”
Margaret is a sweet lady. When she cares about something or someone, she cares deeply. It’s a wonder to know that the tragedies of life didn’t crush her as much as they should have after having such a tough life before.
She literally broke out of the system and refused to be another statistic on African American women who drop out of school and get pregnant and that they also end up in a very abusive relationship.
She broke that. For her daughter.
“Mrs. Martin, it’s good to see you again.” I say as she releases me after a very tight, rocking side to side, kind of hug.
“Chloe, it’s Margaret to you. How many times do I have to tell you that.” she chides with a smile marring her angelic face.
I have known Sam for a while now, but calling her mother by her first name isn’t something I’m comfortable with even now.
“Sorry, my bad. Margaret, you look stunning as always. What will it be this year? Twenty-five?” I ask because it seems like she doesn’t age, but I know she is in her late forties. Which probably explains why she wants Sam to settle down. I mean, she probably wants grandbabies by now.
“You know it. I was thinking we should do purple and pink colors this year.” She responds, good natured about it.
And I burst out laughing. Margaret is charming and she is also hilarious.
“Yeah sure Mama. Maybe we should go to Vegas for that weekend too.” Sam chimes in and we all laugh knowing damn well there is no way Charles Martin II would allow that.
“I missed you girls, come on in! I hear we have a special treat tonight.”
Margaret’s excitement is palpable and infectious as she claps her hands in a gleeful gesture, like a little girl who has just been presented with tickets to a private day at Disneyland.
I laugh at her intended meaning.
“Well, it’s been a while since you have all enjoyed my cooking.” I say as I shoot Sam a look that she knows all too well. You owe me!
She just laughs and skips ahead, entering the grand foyer. The mansion is beautiful, airy and inviting. Nothing about this house is stuffy, old or overpowering like other mansions I’ve seen.
It looks nothing like the Demetri’s ugly mansion and it’s intimidating set up; looking like a house of horrors. Not even the most expensive art pieces and an indoor fountain can dispel the negative air in that place.
I like this mansion though. Although intimidating, it is a small piece of home for me. Everywhere I look, there is a feminine, elegant touch, evidence of Margaret’s presence.
Directly across the entry, there is a portrait of Charles, Margaret and Sam.
It’s regal and beautiful. A blended family. They connected not only their races, but their different cultures. Bringing a daughter for Charles. Did I mention that Charles adores the ground Sam walks on? No? Well now you know.
I love looking at that portrait. In my mind’s eye I see myself with my parents, but in reality, I know this is Sam’s family and I’m blessed to be around them.
To know them is to love them and I’m thankful that they include me in so many of their intimate settings. But even then, I still keep to myself. It hurts sometimes but, I still need to look out for myself. I have to be realistic.
I also can’t help comparing this place to Gideon’s gorgeous, expensive penthouse. Now that space, I love. For some weird reason.
Margaret is saying something that I catch at the end, and I’m so glad I did.
“Oh yes, I would like to start right away. I hope Maria won’t be offended.” I question, thinking of their in-house chef.
Her food is great, but you know people who love to cook tend to have possessive issues when it comes to their turf. In this case, it’s the kitchen.
“Oh nonsense, she took a day off. I reckon you are safe for today.” Margaret giggles as she leads the way to the large, modern kitchen. It’s a chef’s dream to work in here and I feel the familiar envy I always have whenever I see a state-of-the-art kitchen.
It doesn’t matter where I see it, might be from an article in Architectural Digest or from an advertisement on T.V or something closer to reality like this. I still drool all over myself, figuratively.
Being in the midst of this kind of art appeals to me in a way I can never really put in words to anyone.
I always wanted to be a chef. I would dream about it all the time and would tell whoever would stop and listen all about it. I guess some dreams are just not meant to be.
I start unloading the grocery bags that the driver no doubt placed on the spotless marble counter and I get busy as Margaret brings out a bottle of red wine and three glasses.
Sam takes a seat on the other side of the island, with a carefree expression on her face. I love seeing her like this, unwinding and just enjoying the company of the people she loves.
As soon as Margaret pours the wine, she gives us each a glass and she proposes a toast.
“To you girls and the dirt you are about to spill in the kitchen.”
Sam and I look at each other and we burst out laughing.
Maybe this is exactly what I needed tonight. To do what I love, be around the people that I love and have a glass of fine red wine while we are at it.
Chapter 16
Chloe
BY THE TIME I FINISH preparing dinner, my sides were hurting from all the laughing I endured but enjoyed. And it’s all thanks the duo that is Margaret and my best friend, Sam.
I made a casserole dish. A cheesy beef and sweet potato taco casserole that I slaved over but it’s really easy to make. I have a citrus kale salad to go along with that and we also had time to make strawberry cheese cake for Charles. He really loves it.
I think we have had more wine than food by the time Charles gets home.
He finds us in various stages of losing it as we laugh at one of Margaret’s anecdotes about her life.
I can’t even stand up straight as I think of how Margaret kicked some stranger in the nuts th
en she ran away, only to find out a few weeks later that it was one of Charles’s closets friends.
“I see you ladies are having a good time.” Charles says with amusement.
Standing by the kitchen entrance. His suit jacket resting over his arm and his briefcase; a Father’s Day gift from Sam, dangling on the side.
There is a twinkle in his knowledgeable eyes as he looks at the joyful expression on his wife and daughter’s faces. Charles loves to see his two, beautiful girls happy and enjoying themselves.
“Oh darling. I was just telling these two independent ladies about your friend Law, and our... unconventional introduction to each other.” Margaret says as she gets up and goes to kiss her husband hello.
It’s a sweet kiss, the ones that make you want to find someone to grow old with. Someone to spend the rest of your life with.
“Dad!” Sam gleefully shouts, jumping up from the bar stool she was passed out on, laughing hysterically.
Sam and Charles are really close and they are also friends which to me, is a beautiful thing.
I wish men would know that their presence in a child’s life means so much and it makes all the difference. I mean, Charles is not Sam’s biological father, but he is her dad in every way that counts.
It takes much more than getting a woman pregnant to be a father.
They hug and Charles chuckles heartily as he has to drop everything to catch Sam as she comes barreling in his arms. I just stand there smiling like a loon, watching them.
“Chloe, the whole place smells amazing. And my dear you look lovely. How are you?” he asks after letting go of Sam then patting her cheek affectionately.
Charles is like that one grandfather that you really love because he gives you a lot of money for your birthday and for Christmas. He is so caring and kind towards his family. It’s rare to see that kind of commitment from men. Especially successful men who have ‘made it’ in life.
“Oh, thank you Mr. Martin. I’m well but you look amazing. That trainer is really working you hard.” I say knowingly.
At the ripe age of sixty-two, he looks at most, a decade younger.
“You have no idea Chloe, that man is no joke.” he shakes his head as if recalling a particular strenuous work out.
“Well, I for one happen to like the results. You look amazing, honey.” Margaret gushes and they shamelessly begin to flirt with each other right there. In the middle of the kitchen. Well, it’s their kitchen anyway so...
“Get a room you two!. Chloe can you believe this?” I chuckle and raise both my hands in surrender. Nope, I’m staying out of this one.
“Seriously, you are not even going to back me up?” Sam complains.
“Why are you jealous Sammy. Get your own man.” I taunt her as I grab the plates and the cutlery to go and fix the dining room table.
“Urgh, Chloe! I need to get a new best friend.” she mutters loudly so I can hear her but I’m already out of the room through the other door.
I needed to step away.
Sometimes, at moments like these, I see a happy family and just imagine my own parents and I wish with everything in me that they were still alive.
I don’t know. Maybe I wouldn’t have suffered through life the way I have. I would have had a normal life but instead here I am.
Maybe I would have turned out beautiful in the inside and carefree like Sam, with no one looking at me like I’m broken or lost.
“You should have had my back in there.” Sam says as she comes in bearing glasses and the condiments.
I compose myself and force out a laugh.
“Sam please, you know you love the mushy stuff. Admit it.”
“Yeah I do, but not when it’s my own parents.” She shakes her head as if trying to shake away a disgusting memory but I know it’s engraved behind her eyelids. A great memory to have of one’s parents. I know because it’s the same for me.
Margaret comes in, carrying the casserole dish wearing oven mittens and places it at the center artistically.
Pretty soon, after Charles freshens up for dinner, we are all seated and serving the meal. Hearty portions for everyone. It feels good to enjoy an intimate dinner with people I consider to be my family.
“Chloe, you out did yourself sweetheart. This is amazing!” Margaret praises. Sam hums her consent, too busy stuffing her face with food.
“Yes, it’s like fine wine. You get better each time.” Charles compliments, making me feel good.
It’s as close as I’ll ever get to have the support of a family. I’m sorry for being selfish but I’ll take as much as I can.
“Did you guys know that Chloe here is thinking of finally changing her job” Sam starts and my heart sinks.
I know what she is trying to do. I try to kick her leg from under the table to stop her but for some reason she is able to sense danger underneath the table, and is able to evade the incoming assault to her shins.
“Oh? That’s wonderful news honey. Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Margaret asks. “I for one don’t like that scumbag of a boss that you work for.”
It’s no secret that the Martins dislike my job.
I’m nervous as I look at Charles. He is more in the know about the type of man Stefan Demetri is and if there is anyone who really hates my job it’s him. He is silent for a moment and Sam, gosh I’m going to kill her, decides to carry on.
“Oh yes Mama. And she has also been looking. Can you imagine she is thinking of working for the Blacks? I mean with all the scandal they have right now...”
“The Blacks? The Ponzi scheme Black House Inc?” Margaret questions. She would know them, after all she is part of the elite social circles of New York City.
“The one and only Mama. I don’t know what she is thinking. Daddy, can you tell ole girl here that she has lost her mind.” Sam pleads and I try once again to kick her under the table.
I look at Charles warily and watch as he slowly chews his food as if mulling over something in his head, when finally, he swallows and says,
“I don’t see anything wrong with that. They are actually good people and I do most of my business with them.” Charles informs as his sharp gaze locks onto me. As if he is trying to connect the dots of my life. It’s not the first time he has tried and something tells me he knows something about me.
“Charles you can’t be serious!” Sam gasps, “It’s a Ponzi scheme for crying out loud. That stuff is no joke.”
“Yes, I agree. A Ponzi scheme is one of the worst crimes there is in this world, but I still side with the loyal and informed few that know and believe that the Blacks are innocent. Why would they be stealing money when they have the highest revenues each year? Hell, each quarter.” Charles defends.
I can’t help but think of Gideon and how much I’ve gleaned of his life so far. He is passionate about his job. His work is his family and his family, is his life. I know he will defend it till he can’t anymore. Until the last breath in his body.
“So, you are with Chloe on this one?” Margaret asks her husband. She is smart woman and she married a smart man. She knows to trust his opinion and his thoughts. “Because I happen to like George and Paige, they are wonderful people.”
“I mean if she wants to do it, I don’t see the problem with it. Hell, you could come work with me Chloe. Anything is better than you working with that bastard” Charles’ eyes frost over, the same reaction I notice from Gideon at times, as if he can’t stand the man.
“Thank you, but Sammy here,” I look at her and give her my best stank eye, “is going ahead of herself. I was only telling her the other day that working for Black House Inc is a prospect I want to look into. Not exclusively though, I want to have the luxury of options in front of me before I commit to anything.” I explain, looking at Charles.
“I agree. Having choices is the best way to go. You have no idea how life will mess you up when you don’t have a choice. When your voice is taken away.” Margaret says, looking a bit sad and wistful.
&nbs
p; Charles reaches over and takes her hand and they exchange some kind of silent assurance or whatever lovers do, I don’t know. I have no idea how that works but Gideon is still on my mind, and maybe slightly under my skin.
The subject is closed and we move on to other events.
Margaret tells us all the social circle gossip that she knows and then she starts talking about some other lady, the widow to some dead guy that I don’t even know.
“She was shamelessly flirting with the man, right there in front of his wife. She is so bold and desperate” Margaret laughs and Sam joins in.
“Who was the man again?” Sam asks as she serves herself another slice of cheesecake. Somebody is going to be complaining about her weight tomorrow.
“Didn’t I tell you, it was Law. Lawrence Harvey, the man I kicked in the nuts so many years ago.”
My head whips up so fast I think I just gave myself whiplash.
“Did you just say Lawrence Harvey?” I ask Margaret, to which she nods her head since she is now munching on cheesecake.
I feel like my head is going to fall off, if it keeps spinning around. “Do you know my good friend, Law?” Charles asks me, when he notices my reaction.
There is nothing that you can hide from Charles. His gaze is very perceptive and he is a man who likes to know everything going on around him.
His philosophy in life is that, ‘Nothing just happens’ and now as I meet his gaze, I wonder if I’m going to also swear by it.
“No but his name has been very common in my world recently.” I say, “but something tells me I’m about to find out who he is.”
Chapter 17
Gideon
THERE ARE DAYS WHEN I swear I won’t ever be the man my grandfather wanted me to be, the man my parents raised me to be. To be respectable in the eyes of society, to be revered among my peers and to be honorable. And to also defend my family’s honor.
At times it feels like a heavy burden was placed on my shoulders. How can I be that man? When I’m filled with so much anger within me.
The Billion Dollar Plan: Incongruity Series Book 1 Page 12